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Book 4J-Ji !i±. 
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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



The New Lights 



A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS 

By 
HUGH MANN 




ARTIetV6RITATl 



m 



BOSTON : RICHARD G. BADGER 

1904 



Copyright 1904 by Richard G. Badger 
All rights reserved 



LIBRARY cf CONGHfiSS 
Two Copies fJeceived 

NOV 7 1904 

Copyrignt tntry 
CUSS^' XXc, No; 



COPY 



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PRINTED AT 

THE GORHAM PRESS 

BOSTON U. S. A. 



PREFACE 

The New-Lights, so called in derision, are a 
religious sect, established early in the nineteenth 
century by schism from the Mennonites of Penn- 
sylvania in the interests of greater religious 
purism. 

They are known locally as '' New Mennists " 
(pronounced '' Men-neests," in the vernacular), 
by way of distinction from the original church, — 
the " Old Mennists." 

They are non-resistent. They take no part in 
politics, — not even to the extent of voting. They 
refuse to go to war ; they also refuse to " go 
to law," even to recover stolen property. But 
they are earnest, hard-working, law-abiding citi- 
zens. 

They regard themselves as the only true church 
of Christ, — looking upon all other sects as he- 
retical. Their children are not members by birth- 
right, and, as they make no effort to proselyte, 
the sect is slowly dying out. 

Many of them are very rich, principally in 
land ; and their children, to whom they are pro- 
verbially indulgent, often lead very " gay and 
worldly '! lives. 

They wear a peculiar garb, somewhat resem- 
bling that of the Quakers. The women dress in 
woolen or cotton, in sombre colors, — silk velvet, 

3 



4 PREFACE 

any material or color suggesting " pride of life," 
being rigidly tabooed. Their gowns are made 
with the greatest simplicity, and with these there 
is always worn an apron, almost as long as the 
dress, a kerchief, and a cap. The apron and ker- 
chief are ordinarily of the same material as the 
gown, — though in working garb the apron, with 
a woolen gown, may be of gingham, and, on 
extra occasions, the kerchief may be of soft white 
lawn or cashmere. 

The hair is drawn smoothly back under the 
cap, — which is worn because of the scriptural 
dictum that " a woman who goeth with head un- 
covered dishonoreth her head," — and is made 
of the sheerest Swiss muslin, with exquisite 
daintiness, but following the severest lines, and 
finished with rolled hems. 



Note. — This play is, in a small way, histori- 
cal. The descriptions of dress, manner, and cus- 
toms, religious doctrines and practices, are tran- 
scriptions from life. The incidents which make 
the plot are founded upon fact, and occurred in 
the generation preceding that of the author; — 
but so little has the life of this exclusive sect 
changed in the past century that these incidents 
might have taken place within the past year. 



CHARACTERS 

ABRAHAM CAST — Wealthy farmer and New 

Mennist preacher. 
JAMES HERRON — Son-in-law to Abraham 

Cast, — a prosperous young lawyer of the 

" gay world " living in the neighboring 

city of L . 

JOHN RUNKEL — Well-to-do young farmer, 

— neighbor of Abraham Cast. 
HENRY EICHBERGER AND LEVI 

SCHWARTZ — Prominent New Men- 

nists, — neighbors of Abraham Cast. 
JAKE METZGER — Hired man to Abraham 

Cast. 
KATHERINE — Daughter of Abraham Cast. 
HANNAH BROWN — Hired girl to Abraham 

Cast. 
ELLEN BROWN ~ Sister to Hannah and hired 

girl to Henry Eichberger. 
MARY EICHBERGER — Wife of Henry Eich- 
berger. 
MARTHA RUNKEL — Mother of John 

Runkel. 
SUSAN MARTIN — Chief maid servant in 

house of James Herron. 

The action takes place in the houses of Abra- 
ham Cast and of James Herron, alternately. 

5 



ACT FIRST 

Scene — A large, old-fashioned farmhouse 
living-room, zinth two broad, deep-seated ivin- 
dozvs and a zmde, open door in rear, giving upon 
an ample hack-porch, and affording vistas of 
level-stretching green fields smiling in the warm 
sunlight of an early summer morning. 

The huge fireplace, a scene of yule-log cheer 
in winter; is closed in for the summer with heavy 
wooden doors, and serves as a sort of closet. At 
either end of the room is a door, leading to other 
parts of the house. 

The walls are whitewashed; the woodwork 
is painted a dove-gray. There are green paper 
blinds at the windows, rolled up and tied with 
white tape. There is a tall clock in one corner; 
a quaint china-closet in another. An old-fash- 
ioned settle and three or four chairs to match, 
with spindle backs, are ranged stiHy against the 
wall. There is a rag-carpet on the floor. In the 
center of the room is a large table, piled ivith 
freshly zvashed and dried clothes. By the table 
stands a huge basket, ready to receive the clothes 
when they shall be " damped down " for ironing. 

{Curtain rises upon Hannah Brown, engaged 
in sprinkling the clothes. She is fresh, yonng, 
buxom, with a fair, brilliant skin, and with an 
abundant suit of dark red hair.) 



8 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Hannah (seeing a young zvonian cross the 
grass plot in rear and mount the porch) — Well! 
Well ! — and whatever brings you so early of this 
fine day? 

Ellen (ente?'ing and removing her sun-bonnet. 
She is prettier than Hannah, and her hair is 
yellow.) — Why, Mr. and Mrs. Eichberger are 
gone to town for the day, and she said I might 
come over and visit with you, see'n' as I was a 
stranger and might feel lonesome. 

Hannah — Anybody might easy know you 
was a stranger to hear you say Mr. and Mrs. 
Eichberger. We say Abraham and Katherine 
and Henry and Mary 'round here. 

Ellen — Yes, I know you do, — but it seems 
sort o' strange to me as yet, — but I guess I'll 
get used to it. 

Hannah — You come in just good to take a 
hand with these clothes. 

Ellen — Yes; that's nice, aint it? (Begin- 
ning to sprinkle and fold.) 

Hannah — Now look-ee-here ! Don't put 
quite so much water on that, — it makes it too 
stiff to iron good, — and fold it smooth, like this 
(taking garment from Ellens hands and demon- 
strating) . 

Ellen (good-naturedly) — Aint you partick'- 
lar ! — My ! — 



THE NEW LIGHTS 9 

Hannah — It's easy to see you was brought 
up by mother's folks. They was never partick'- 
lar, Hke father's. 

Ellen (a little indignantly) — I suit Mrs. 
Eichberger. 

Hannah — Yes, I guess, — but she don't 
have things, anyhow, Hke we have 'em. 

Ellen — You do things all your own way 
here, don't you? 

Hannah — Yes; since Mother Gast died. 

Ellen — Why, where's Katherine ? 

Hannah — She's keeping house for her 
brother-in-law, in town, since he lost his wife — 
taking care of the little baby she left. 

Ellen — Is that so ? Well ! Well ! I wonder 
how she likes that sort o' thing. You used to 
write me about how gay she was, and how fine 
she dressed, and the beaux she had, and how she 
went hither and yon among the fashionables. 
My! My! — 

Hannah — Yes ; that was when I used to take 
more interest in such things than I do now. But 
don't you know that Katherine's a New Men- 
neest ? 

Ellen — Katherine a New Menneest ? Good- 
ness gracious ! Since when ? 

Hannah — Well ! it's goin' on to pretty near 
a year now, I guess. You see, when Christian 



10 THE NEW LIGHTS 

was took off SO sudden-like, and then soon after 
Barbara died in childbed, — she began to feel 
concern for her soul. {Ending with a pious 
cadence in her tone.) 

Ellen {looking at Hannah in surprise at this 
tone, and then changing her expression at the 
thought of Christian) — Yes! that was turrible 
about Christian, wasn't it? Just how did it 
happen? I never heard quite. 

Hannah — Why, one day, when we was 
thronged in the harvest field, he put his buggy- 
horse, Jenny, a high-steppin' blooded thing, into 
the reaper, — and she run away and killed him 
and herself too. 

Ellen {shuddering)— My \ My! My! How 
turrible ! And Katherine took it hard ! No won- 
der ! No wonder ! 

Hannah — Yes; him and her was fond of 
the world together, and she missed him some- 
thing turrible. She shut herself up in her own 
room and wouldn't eat enough to keep a fly alive. 
Then, a week later, came word that Barbara 
was dead, — sudden, you know, — in child-bed — 
and before they could get to her. Barbara was 
very worldly, too, you see! So that just finished 
things up for Katherine. 

Ellen — What did she do ? 

Hannah — Well, just as I tell you, she didn't 



THE NEW LIGHTS u 

come out of her room for clays, — and then one 
evenin', when I was startin' to take somethin' 
to eat lip to her as usual, lo and behold ye! I 
sees her standin' at the foot o' the stairs dressed 
in plain clothes. Well ! You could 'a' knocked 
me down with a feather. I thought at first I'd 
saw a ghost, — but it just come to me that she'd 
gone and got some of her mother's clothes and 
put 'em on, — she's just her mother's build. 
And, — well ! she aint never been her old self 
since. 

Ellen — Is she good-lookin' — as ever ? 

Hannah — Oh, yes ! She's good-lookin', — 
too good-lookin', — even her plain clothes don't 
spoil her good looks. 

Ellen — And how about all her beaux ? . 

Hannah — Well, of course they all dropped 
off sharp, — when she give herself up, — you 
know you can't marry out o' meetin' — 

Ellen — " Give herself up ? " Oh, yes ! You 
mean joined the church. But aint there no likely 
young men in meetin'? 

Hannah — Well — no-o — not to say young 
men, — not many, leastways. John Runkel used 
to be crazy over Katherine. I hear he's give 
himself up, too — a'ready. It's easy to see what 
he's after. Katherine never would look at him 
as long as she was in the world. I wonder if 
she'd take him now ? 



12 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Ellen (laughing heartily) — It makes me die 
o'laughing to think of a beau in plain clothes. 

Hannah — Well, you might do somethin' 
better than laugh at such things. 

Ellen (zvith surprise at Hannah's pious tone, 
hut mockingly) — Why, Hannah! Are you goin' 
to turn New Menneest? 

Hannah {whose sharp eye has caught sight 
of Abraham Cast mounting the porch, — in a 
loud and distinct tone) — There's been stranger 
things as has happened. 

Abraham {stopping beside the door to remove 
his boots, — and entering in his stocking feet and 
shirt sleeves, with a Held hat on his head) — 
Well, Hannah! Busy as a bee as usual. And 
who's this we have here {turning henignantly 
to Ellen) ? 

{Abraham speaks with great deliberation, with 
hesitation even, and in a tone with a minor ca- 
dence, — a habit contracted from the effort neces- 
sary to do extemporaneous preaching in a man 
not naturally ready of speech.) 

Hannah — Oh, that's my sister as was 
brought up out West. She's hired out to Henry 
Eichberger. 

Abraham — Yes ! Yes ! I heard you talk of 
her coming. {Shaking hands with Ellen) I 
wish well to your soul {solemnly), Hannah. 



THE NEW LIGHTS 13 

Did I hear aright ? Are you being indeed drawn 
to seek the narrow way? 

Hannah {blushing, dropping her eyes, and 
tremhling a little) — I — I aint worthy ! 

Abraham — We are none of us worthy. We 
are all only poor worms of the dust. But he 
that seeketh findeth, and to him that knocketh 
it shall be opened. But we must feel to give 
ourselves up — to leave the broad way that lead- 
eth to destruction, — and to walk humbly with 
our God. {Giving Hannah a yearning and ad- 
miring look, he passes into his bedroom ad- 
joining. ) 

{Hannah catches the look and blushes and 
trembles again. There is silence for a few sec- 
onds, at the Old of zvhich time Abraham's voice 
is heard in the inflections of supplication, though 
no words are distinguished.) 

Ellen {in an azi^ed tone) — What's he doin' in 
there? Gettin' ready for his next Sunday ser- 



mon r 



Hannah {zmth mild scorn) — Gettin' ready 
for his next Sunday sermon ! They don't get 
ready for no sermons. They just opens the Bible, 
when the time comes to preach, and " the Lord 
gives 'em in that hour what they shall say and 
what they shall speak/' as the scriptur's has it. 

Ellen — You seem to know a right good lot 
about the scriptur's. 



14 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Hannah — Well, you see I have a chance to 
learn a right good lot about 'em here. 

{The tones of Abraham's voice grow louder, 
but the words are still undistinguishable.) 

Ellen — What is he a-doin', then? 

Hannah — He's a-prayin! {drawing near to 
the door of Abraham's room) — a-prayin' {her 
face Hushing and then paling) — for me. 

{With a look of subdued triumph in her eye, 
but with an expression of humility on her face 
and in her manner, she returns vigorously to the 
sprinkling. Ellen is speechless. Ellen and Han- 
nah work silently. Abraham's voice dies azvay. 
Presently he appears at the door of his room, with 
a fine, serene expression of countenance. He 
has put on a coat, a broad-brimmed hat, and a 
pair of shoes.) 

Abraham — I'm going to market now, Han- 
nah, with the fresh vegetables. I'll be back at 
the usual time. {To Ellen) You must come 
and see Hannah whenever you can get off. 
{Goes out.) 

Ellen — Does he stand in market ? 

Hannah — No ; but the Eichbergers do. 
They aint above that kind o' thing, — none of 
'em. But Abraham has such good things. So 
he has his private customers as knows him and 
his things. 



THE NEW LIGHTS 15 

Ellen (suddenly) — Hannah, are you goin' to 
join the New Menneests? 

Hannah — Well — why not ? 

Ellen (hotly) — I know / wouldn't join any 
church that thinks my dead mother's soul is lost 
forever. 

Hannah — Ye can't help your convictions, 
can ye? 

Ellen — And you, brought up a Methodist ! 

Hannah — Well, I aint a-sayin' yet what 
I'll do, — but (piously) I'll follow my call. 

(Steps are heard on the porch, and Jake Mets- 
ger appears in the line of the open doorway, the 
jamb of which conceals Ellen from his view.) 

Hannah — Now look-ee-here, Jake Metzger ! 
Don't you be comin' in here with your- dirty 
boots on! You see the example Abraham sets 
you! 

Jake — Don't you holler afore you're kicked ! 
I aint a-comin' in. I kin stop on the porch a 
minute, can't I? 

Hannah — Well, I don't know about that ! 
I just scrubbed that porch, and your boots aint 
a-goin' to help keep it scrubbed ! 

(Jake, moving to the window and leaning in 
on the sill, sees Ellen for the first time. He 
colors and looks sheepish, hut recovers himself 
and gives her an admiring glance. ) 



i6 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Jake — Will I dirty them clothes by lookin' 
in at 'em? 

Hannah — This is my sister Ellen, as was 
brought up out West. She's come to live with 
Eichbergers. 

Jake (pushing his field hat farther back on his 
head and ducking a little) — Never been in these 
parts before? 

Ellen — Yes ; I was born here, same as Han- 
nah, — but I was little when I was took out West 
by my aunt after mother died. 

Jake — Aint never lived with New Menneests 
afore ? 

Ellen — No. 

Jake — Well, you might live with worse 
folks. They're not so bad when you git used to 
'em, — that is, some of 'em. Some of 'em is 
pretty hard nuts to crack. 

Hannah — Aint you ashamed o' yourself, 
Jake! 

Jake — Now, you'll be goin' and tellin' Abra- 
ham that, I'll swan ! You'll be a New Menneest 
yourself before long. You'd be one now, — only 
you don't like the idee o' them plain clothes. 
That's what sticks in your craw. How would 
you git all that red hair into a cap anyway ? 

Hannah — See here, now, Jake ! You stop 
a-jokin' about such things. 



THE NEW LIGHTS 17 

Jake — You think you're mistress here, don't 
ye? That's what you're a-workin' fur. Aint it, 
now ? They do say you're after Abraham, — 
and that he's only a-waitin' fur ye to give your- 
self up (teasingly) . 

Hannah (mith defiant self-complacency) — 
Yes, — they do talk that way, — and it wouldn't 
be so strange! 

Ellen — Oh, don't say such things ! 

Jake (to Ellen) — I see you aint likely to join 
the New Menneests, — any more 'an I am. 

Ellen — Oh, no ! 

Jake — Their religion's too slobberin' for me. 
The men kisses one another when they meet. 

Hannah — Yes! "Greets one another with a 
holy kiss," as the scriptur's has it. 

Jake (laughing) — I see myself greetin' 
another man with a holy kiss ! Ha ! ha ! Now, 
if they'd allow the men to kiss the women, I 
might jine. 

Ellen (mischievously) — Maybe you wouldn't 
if you had to kiss all the women. 

Jake (boldly) — If they was all as good-lookin' 
as you, -^ I'd jine tomorrow ! 

Ellen (catching her breath and blushing furi- 
ously) — Oh! 

Jake — But ye see if I'd jine, and wanted to 
marry one o' the good-lookin' girls, I wouldn't 



i8 THE NEW LIGHTS 

dare to tell her first. I'd have to go and speak to 
the preacher, and then he'd talk to the brethren, 
and then, when they was all agreed, the preacher 
he'd go and ask the girl. 

Ellen — Oh, my ! Is that the way they do ? 

Jake — Yes ! Ketch me doin' my courtin' that 
way! 

Ellen — They certainly do have queer no- 
tions. 

Hannah — They can give you scriptur' fur 
every thing they do. 

Jake — Oh, they kin, kin they? Seems to 
me you know lots about 'em for one as aint of 
'em! Well, I must be gittin' out to the field 
agin. Where's my snack, Hannah? 

Hannah — It's on the out-kitchen table. 
Mind now, — and don't let in the flies. 

Jake (zmth parting glance of admiration at 
Ellen) — See you agin soon! (Goes.) 

Hannah — That Jake ! He's got more im- 
pudence! He's a likely fellow, though! You'd 
better set your cap for him. He's savin' money, 
— and for all that he's got as fine a horse and 
buggy as anybody around here. 

Ellen — He aint likely to be a New Men- 
neest, neither! 

Hannah — Well, there's no tellin'! That 
mockin' kind gits humbled by the Spirit some- 



THE NEW LIGHTS 19 

times easier 'an others. He's just like a son to 
Abraham, too. And Abraham sets great store 
by him. Most as much as he does by me. 

Ellen — Hannah ! Would you marry an old 
man like Abraham? 

Hannah (indignantly) — How do you darest 
to ask me such a question, and I aint give myself 
up yet? 

Ellen — He might treat you like Mr. Eich- 
berger treats his wife. 

Hannah (surprised) — And how's that? 

Ellen — Why, she never dares to set down 
to the table with him. She makes me eat with 
him, and she goes off by herself until we're done. 
Now, aint that awful ! What's the reason, do you 
think? 

Hannah — Oh, that's what you mean ! Why, 
she's been turned out o' meetin'. 

Ellen — Turned out o' meetin' ! Well, what's 
that got to do with it? 

Hannah (solemnly) — The scriptur's says, 
" With such an one, no not to eat." 

Ellen — My ! My ! Does the scriptur's say 
that? There's a lot in 'em that / don't know 
anything about. 

Hannah — You'd better learn a little more. 

Ellen — My ! My ! And his own wife, too ! 
— and can't eat at the same table with him ! But 
she sleeps with him. 



20 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Hannah (sententiously) — The scriptur's 
don't say nothin' agin that. (With a glance at 
the clock) My! I must go and gather my vege- 
tables for dinner (goes out by porch door). 

(As soon as she is out of sight Jake reappears 
at the zvindozv zvith a great piece of pie in his 
hand. ) 

Jake (to Ellen) — Don't you want some o' this 
pie? It's good! Come out into the out-kitchen 
and I'll give ye some ; I'd think you'd be hungry. 
Hannah makes the best pies ! But ketch me 
tellin' her! Kin you make as good pies as Han- 
nah? 

Ellen (humbly) — I guess Hannah wouldn't 
think so! 

Jake — I bet you kin. I'm comin' over to 
Eichberger's to taste your pies some day. 

Ellen (cordially) — Yes, do! 

(Hannah's voice is heard outside.) 

Hannah — Aint you gone to field yet, Jake 
Metzger ? 

Jake — O Lord! There she is! I'd ruther 
you wouldn't make quite such good pies, if you 
had to be like Hannah to do it (goes). 

CURTAIN 



ACT SECOND 

Scene — A spacious, richly-furnished room, 
half sitting-room, half library, irv the house of 
James Herron. The color scheme is dull green 
lightened zvith yellozv. There is a large alcove 
with skylight in rear center, lined zvith book- 
shelves filled zvith books. In the center of the 
alcove stand a gentleman s table, desk, and turn- 
stile chair: There are curtains to the alcove, 
zvhich can be drazun to screen it entirely from the 
rest of the room. There is a large, richly-draped 
zvindozv on either side of the alcove. There is a 
door at either end of the room leading to other 
parts of the house. There is an open fireplace 
left end front, in zvhich a fire is cheerfully burn- 
ing. The carpet is thick and soft. Near each 
end of room stands a large library table strezvn 
zvith books and pamphlets. In the center front, 
opposite the alcove, stands a quaint but elaborate 
sezmng-table, and, by it, a rather luxurious sezif- 
ing-chair. Scattered about the room are a num- 
ber of large library chairs, richly upholstered in 
green leather. 

(Curtain rises upon Katherine Cast seated at 
sezving-tqble zvith a piece of zjvork in her hands. 
She zvears a dove-gray cashmere gown. Her 
apron is of the same material, a shade paler. 
Her kerchief is of soft white muslin, simply 



22 THE NEW LIGHTS 

hemmed. Her abundant bright brown hair is 
coiled very closely under her cap, which is not 
tied under the chin but has little rounded floating 
Olds, falling away from her cheeks on either side 
of her throat.) 

{James Heron enters from right.) 

Katherine {without rising, looking a little 
startled, says quietly, however, in a manner sug- 
gesting constant restraint upon self) — I — I 
thought you had gone out. 

James {without looking at her, and going di- 
rectly into the alcove) — No, I have some work 
to do that I can do better here than at the office. 
{Seats himself where he can command a side 
view of Katherine' s face. ) 

Katherine {starting up) — Let me get your 
study-lamp for you. 

James— \ No, no! Sit down, Fll ring for 
Susan. {Rises, rings, goes to shelves, takes down 
a book or two, seats himself at desk.) 

Katherine {without looking at James) — 
Don't you think you're working a little too much 
lately, — all day and in the evening too ? 

James — It's only temporary. I'm trying to 
get my affairs fixed up with a view to getting out 
of this sleepy-hollow of a town as soon as pos- 
sible. {Knock at door, enter Susan.) Susan, 
bring my study-lamp. {Susan goes out.) Of 



THE NEW LIGHTS 23 

course you must not speak of this, even to Father 
Gast, — but I'm going into business with a live 
fellow in San Francisco, — promoting, — with a 
chance to make millions. 

Katherine (aghast) — San Francisco! 

James — Yes. Let me see — this is the 
first of December; I expect to be out of this 
by the first of March, — maybe sooner. 

Katherine — And you'll take little James? 

James — Why, of course ! What did you ex- 
pect me to do with him? 

Katherine — Oh, how can I give him up? 

James — You needn't, — you can go with him, 

— us. (A knock. Enter Susan with lamp, which 
she places on alcove table.) 

Susan {to Katherine) — There's a lady to see 
you. Miss. She says she's a sister in the Lord, 

— the widow Runkel! She's settin' in the hall. 
I as't her into the parlor, but she wouldn't go in. 
Said somethin' about not givin' countenance to 
the pride o' life. 

Katherine {with agitation, hut with the same 
careful restraint of manner) — Tell her — but 
no, wait ! — what shall I do? 

James — Don't you want to see her ? Tell her 
you're not at home, or engaged, or something. 
She's a meddlesome old thing. Used to come 
here often bothering Barbara. 



24 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Katherine — O James ! — a member ! — and 
a preacher's widow. No, no! I can't do 
that. 

James — Well! What's the trouble? Don't 
you want to go down? 

Katherine — I can't receive her in the hall 
(with a feeble smile) — nor ask her into the 
drawing-room, after what she said to Susan. 

James — Well ! bring her up here. I'll get 
out for a while. 

Katherine — Oh, no, James! I don't want 
to drive you out. Don't go, — please stay. 

James — And meet her? Not any, thank 
you! 

Katherine (pale and nervous) — O James! 
I — I — I don't want to see her — alone! 

James — Well, then, if you don't mind, I'll 
draw the curtains and stay in here. She needn't 
know. I hope to heaven she won't stay long. 

Katherine (comforted, and zvith a little flash 
of natural lightness) — There's no telling! 

James — Tell her to come up, Susan (draw- 
ing the curtains). 

(Susan goes out and returns, showing in 
Martha Runkel, who removes her Shaker-like 
slat -bonnet as she enters. Katherine rises, and 
she and Martha kiss each other solemnly. They 
sit down, Katherine pale and constrained.) 



THE NEW LIGHTS 25 

Martha — I trust that you are in the enjoy- 
ment of the peace that passeth all understanding. 
(Katherine lifts a pair of sad eyes to Martha's 
face, — drops them again and says nothing.) 
I fear you find it hard not to hunger after the 
flesh pots of Egypt when you live in the midst of 
so much lust of the eye and pride of life. 

Katherine — I — I — don't think I notice 
it — now. 

Martha — That is well, dear young sister. 
It is our calling to be in the world but not of it, 
— to use these things as if we possessed them 
not. 

Katherine — Yes ! I — I — try to feel so. 

Martha — My mind has been much exercised, 
over your being here just now, — while you're 
so new to the narrow way. I spoke to Abraham 
about it, — and he said he could not feel to take 
you away from the child, and that he was trusting 
to our Heavenly Father to keep you meek and 
lowly in heart. 

Katherine — Dear father ! 

Martha — Then I said to him, " Why not 
have her- bring the child home for a while ? " 

Katherine {with spirit) — You forget that it 
is James' child. 

Martha — Yes, that's what Abraham said. 
But I answered him, " The scripture says : 



26 THE NEW LIGHTS 

* Touch not the unclean thing.' ' Come out from 
among them and be ye separate/ saith the Lord. 

* Ye shall not tempt the Lord thy God.' " 

Katherine (agitated) — I try to remember 
these things. 

Martha — I am the bearer of a message to 
you from the meeting. 

Katherine — From the meeting? 

Martha — Yes ! You are summoned home for 
a short season, to consider a matter to be laid 
before the brethren concerning you. 

Katherine (pale and trembling) — To con- 
sider a matter to be laid before the brethren? 

Martha — Not a matter of rebuke or chas- 
tening, my dear sister, — a matter concerning 
your walk in the flesh. 

Katherine — The church disapproves of my 
living here? 

Martha — Oh, no! Not that (looking very 
earnestly at Katherine). Do you not know that 
John has given himself up? 

Katherine (in great surprise) — John! No 
— no — I did not know it ! 

Martha — Yes! It has pleased the Lord to 
call my dear son from the broad way that leadeth 
to destruction into the narrow way that leadeth 
into life (zveeping and wiping her eyes). 

Katherine — I — I am glad for you, — for 



THE NEW LIGHTS 27 

him. But — when am I to appear before the 
brethren ? 

Martha — On Wednesday, in your father's 
house, at a special meeting. 

Kati-ierine — That's day after tomorrow. 
Then I can't take httle James along. It's too 
sudden ; besides, I'd be afraid, this weather. But 
I needn't stay? I can come right back? 

Martha (coldly) — Yes, yes! Doubtless! 
(Then sweetly, after a short silence) Beware, my 
dear young sister, lest you make an idol unto 
yourself of this child. (Another silence, during 
zvhich Katherine clasps and unclasps her hands 
in a frightened zvay.) 

Katherine — Do you know what this matter 
is concerning me ? 

Martha — It ill becomes me to speak of that 
which our holy church must first consider, — 
but it is my earnest desire that you and John may 
feel to walk together in the Lord. 

Katherine (in great agitation) — Oh, no! 
Not that — not that, — I do not wish to think 
of marrying — now. I must stay with father, 
and take ca:re of him in his age. 

Martha (ivith a cold smile) — He'll not need 
you later any more than he does now, from 
present signs. Hannah Brown has given herself 
up, and it is more than likely that she and Abra- 
ham will feel to walk together in the Lord. 



28 THE NEW LIGHTS 

(Katherine is dumb. Martha continues.) Poor 
Barbara ! She was taken out of the midst of all 
this vanity, before she had the least chance to 
make her calling and election sure. You should 
feel to thank the Lord, Katherine, that you have 
been snatched as a brand from the burning. 

Katherine {zmth flushing face) — Father says 
we may always cherish the hope that Barbara 
had made her peace with God. 

Martha — Yes, that might be. She was not 
anyhow of those that bow the knee to Baal, — 
that follow after false prophets. And so she may 
have found mercy with the Lord. But does not 
her sudden taking off lead James to seek the 
narrow way, lest he too be taken as a thief in the 
night ? 

Katherine — James doesn't — look at these 
things as we do. 

Martha — He is very rich in this world's 
goods (looking around her). The wicked 
spreadeth himself like a green bay tree, — but 
it is not pleasing to the Lord. " Woe unto ye 
lawyers," said Christ. You should warn James 
to flee from the wrath to come. But I must be 
going now (rising and taking Katherine by the 
hand). My beloved young sister, we should feel 
to walk close to our meek and lowly Savior, 
and so endeavor to make our calling and election 
sure. Let us serve the Lord while it is called 



THE NEW LIGHTS 29 

today, for we know not what the morrow may 
bring forth (kisses Katherine solemnly and goes 
out). 

James (throzving open the curtain) — Thank 
heaven! (Seats himself again and begins to 
read, making notes. Katherine takes up her sew- 
ing and sits dozvn ziith her back to James. 
Presently James moves quietly up behind her, 
and, taking the crozmi of her dainty cap betzveen 
his thumb and Unger, lifts it off her head and 
lays it on the sezmng-table. Katherine gives a 
little frightened cry, and inz'oluntarily puts her 
hands over her hair, then reaches for the cap to 
put it on again.) 

James (seimig her hand, says beseechingly) 

— Don't put it on, — not yet at least. You are 
so beautiful without it. Though you are beauti- 
ful enough with it, heaven knows. 

Katherine (using her hands to cover her 
face nozu) — O James ! how can you talk so! 

James — But this is not the reason why I 
take it off, Katherine. It stands between you 
and me. Oh (passionately), leave it off for- 
ever ! 

Katherine (rising and reaching for the cap) 

— I dare not — I dare not. I need something 
between you and me. 

James (encouraged by this acknozjuledgment) 

— Katherine. Let your hair down, — just once 



30 THE NEW LIGHTS 

(coaxingly) , (Katherine, as if unable to resist 
him, removes a simple comb from the close coil 
of her hair and lets its rich masses fall about 
her.) Shake it out. Let me! So! (Coming 
nearer and taking the silky strands in his hands, 
— then suddenly pressing them against his face 
and wildly kissing them. Katherine, pale and 
startled, snatches them from him and coils them 
up quickly, thrusts in the comb, and puts on the 
cap with trembling hands, — then seats herself 
and takes up her sezving, in terrible agitation.) 

James {in a hard voice) — Katherine, are you 
going to let the church marry you to John Run- 
kel? That's what they are all after, as you well 
know. 

Katherine — No, no, James, — you heard 
me, — I do not wish to marry. 

James (gloomily) — But they will easily per- 
suade you that you do. 

Katherine — I do not love John Runkel. 

James — What's that got to do with what the 
church thinks? 

Katherine — The church will not compel me 
to marry. It only forbids me to marry out of 
meeting. 

(There is silence, James looking gloomily at 
the floor, Katherine sewing feverishly.) 

James (suddenly) — Katherine, why don't you 
wear that gown I gave you? 



THE NEW LIGHTS 31 

Katherine (ez'ask'cly)— It's — not made up 
yet. 

James — Why don't you make it up? Even 
in this fashion you would look lovely in it. It 
has just the tints of your hair in shadow, — your 
beautiful hair, that you cover up with that en- 
vious cap; 

Katherine — You know I could never make 
it up — like this. It's silk, and we're forbidden 
to wear such things. 

James — Go and get it, Katherine ; I want to 
see it against your hair and skin. (Katherine 
goes out door at left. James walks moodily up 
and down. Katherine returns immediately with 
the goods, and sits dozvn, smoothing it out ad- 
miringly in her lap.) 

Katherine — It's so pretty, James, — and I 
thank you so much, — but you know {looking 
up at him appealingly) I dare not wear it. 

James — Give it to me! {He takes it, walks 
quickly to the Hreplace, and thrusts it into the 
flames. ) 

Katherine — O James! James! {Then buries 
her face in her arms on the table and breaks into 
vio I en t sobbing.) 

James {striding to her chair, throwing him- 
self upon his knees, seizing her hands and pas- 
sionately kissing them)—0 Katherine! Don't! 
Don't! I'd rather burn off my right hand than 



32 THE NEW LIGHTS 

hurt you so ! You love me, Katherine, — you 
know you love me. What right have these 
damned religionists to come between us ? Kather- 
ine, throw it all off and come to me. If there is 
a good God, who made us as we are. He loves 
love better than religion. 

Katherine — James, — you frighten me. I 
dare not give up to my love for you. If I should, 
all that old terror of the " wrath to come " would 
seize me again. I can not face that, — I would 
rather die now, with my peace made with God. 
Oh ! Oh ! (Rising and putting up her hands as if 
to ward him off.) 

James (drawing nearer to her) — Katherine, 
my love, there is no such thing as '' wrath to 
come." Don't you see that if God is love there 
cannot be any such thing? There is nothing but 
love, Katherine, (drazmng nearer still, zvith glozu- 
ing eyes and fervid tones) — nothing but love. 
Prove it, Katherine! Come to me, my beloved 
(holding out his arms) ! 

(Katherine, raising her large, passionate eyes, 
fixes them upon his glozving countenance, and, as 
if fascinated, yields to his embrace. James 
clasps her in his arms and fastens his lips upon 
hers. Her head drops upon his shoidder, and, as 
it does so, her little cap falls unheeded to the 
floor.) 

CURTAIN 



ACT THIRD 

Scene — Same as first act, except that the fire- 
place is open and a huge fire burning thereon, 
and a landscape covered with snow shows 
through the windows. 

(Curtain rises upon Abraham Cast seated be- 
fore the fire, zvith the open Bible upon a small 
table at his side. Hannah Brown, in plain dress, 
enters from left.) 

Hannah {in bustling fashion) — I guess I'll 
have to send for Ellen to help me. There'll be 
lots to do, with all these folks for dinner and 
Katherine so droopy. 

Abraham — Where is Katherine ? 

Hannah — She's in her room. She don't 
look right. She aint got any life in her, seems 
like. 

Abraham — Yes, I noticed when she came 
yesterday that she didn't look like herself. I 
hope she aint going to be sick. I guess you 
would better send for Ellen. Where's Jake? 

Hannah {a little viciously) — Out in the out- 
kitchen sleepin' over the almanac. Men aint 
much use in winter. 

Abraham — I'll call him. 

Hannah — No, no. Let me. You mus'n't go 
out in the cold that way without bein' wrapped 

33 



34 THE NEW LIGHTS 

^U^^ — you'll git rheumatism agin. (She opens 
the door part zuay and calls, Jake!) 

Jake (outside) — What's up? 

Hannah — Abraham wants ye. 

(Jake enters.) 

Abraham — Take the sleigh, Jake, and go 
over quick for Ellen. Hannah '11 need her help 
to get dinner. 

(Jake gives Hannah a quizzical look and goes 
out, zmth a pleased expression, on his errand.) 

Abraham — Have all the friends come ? 

Hannah — Yes. They're in the front room. 
Shall I call 'em? 

Abraham — No, not yet ; I must speak with 
Katherine alone first. You call her, Hannah. 
(JJannah goes out at left. Abraham walks rather 
nervously up and down. Katherine enters. She 
wears a gown of soft brozvn, with golden lights, 
and an apron and kerchief of cream color. She 
is very pale.) 

Katherine — You sent for me, father? 

Abraham — Yes, Katherine. I must speak 
with you now, not as your earthly father, but as 
the shepherd and bishop of your soul. 

Katherine — Speak to me as both, father. 

Abraham (too absorbed to heed Katherine' s 
words) — John Runkel wishes you to walk be- 
fore the Lord with him as his wife, Katherine, 
and the church indorses his wish. 



THE NEW LIGHTS 35 

Katherine — But I do not love John Runkel, 
father. 

Abraham — I fear you speak of love in the 
carnal sense, Katherine. When we enter upon 
the narrow way we should put aside carnal 
things. We should feel only the spiritual love. 

Katherine — Father, did you feel only the 
spiritual love for mother? 

Abraham (Hushing a little and then growing 
pale and sad) — Your mother and I — married 
before we entered upon the narrow way. 

Katherine — Did you marry each other for 
love? 

Abraham — I — we — we thought so. 

Katherine — Did your love for each other 
change — after you joined the church ? 

Abraham (in simple honesty) — I have never 
thought of that. I — I — do not think it did, — 
but of course it became sanctified. 

Katherine — But, father, suppose there had 
been no love to begin with, — could your mar- 
riage have become sanctified? 

Abraham — The spiritual love sanctifies all 
things. The holy Paul says, — 

Katherine (desperately) — But, father, sup- 
pose — suppose I love another. 

Abraham — In the church, Katherine 
(sternly) ? 



36 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Katherine (trembling) — No, father. 

Abraham — Then, Katherine, as the bishop 
of your soul, I charge you marry John Runkel! 
— flee from fleshly lust ! — crucify your carnal 
mind ! The carnal mind is enmity against God. 
Save your soul from the wrath to come ! Follow 
the guidance of our holy church and the peace 
of God that passeth all understanding shall come 
upon you. 

Katherine (desperately) — The peace of 
God ! The peace of God ! ( Then, as if remem- 
bering herself.) Father, I will do as you, — as 
the church directs. 

Abraham — May the blessing of our Heavenly 
Father be upon you, my child! And now it is 
time to call the friends together. (Opening door 
at left which leads to a corridor, and then open- 
ing a second door upon this corridor leading to 
the parlor, Abraham says) Come, friends! (and 
re-enters, followed by Henry Eichberger, Levi 
Schwartz, and John Runkel. These he takes 
each solemnly by the hand and kisses him upon 
the month, saying) Greeting in the Lord! (after 
which they each shake hands awkwardly with 
Katherine, saying) I wish well to your soul. (In 
the midst of this greeting Hannah enters, fol- 
lowed by Mary Eichberger. The men seat them- 
selves on one side of the room near Abraham^ 



THE NEW LIGHTS 37 

who places himself again at the small fable. The 
women range themselves upon the settee against 
the other zvall. There is a short period of silent 
prayer, in zvhich all join zmth hozved heads.) 

Abraham — We are gathered together, dearly 
beloved, to take counsel one with another, as 
becomes brethren who love the Lord, as to our 
walk with God before the world (a short silence). 
We are commanded to let our light so shine be- 
fore men that they, seeing our good works, may 
glorify our Father which is in heaven {another 
short pause). We will first consider the ex- 
communication of our sister, Mary Eichberger. 
Our holy church is becoming a thing of re- 
proach to the world because of this. It is, noised 
about, and has even crept into the church itself, 
to question whether our sister has been given a 
just opportunity to plead her cause, — to ques- 
tion whether the judgment against her has been 
a righteous judgment. As deacon, I will ask 
our brother Levi Schwartz to give his testi- 
mony as to this judgment. 

Levi , (7C'/V/i set lips and stern face) — The 
judgment was a righteous judgment. Our sister, 
in defiance of her husband, who is her head in 
Christ, in the vain pride of life, insisted upon 
having Venetian blinds upon the outside of her 
house. She has doubly sinned. She has been 



38 THE NEW LIGHTS 

guilty of the lust of the eye and of disobedience 
to her husband. 

Abraham — Mary, what have you to say to 
this? 

Mary {lifting her bowed head and looking 
with gathering courage at her husband's face) — 
I feel — I have always felt that it is an un- 
righteous judgment. 

Abraham (gently) — Do you desire to re- 
turn to the fold of the Lord ? 

Mary (earnestly) — I do. 

Abraham — Do you sincerely repent of your 
pride of life ? 

Mary — I have none to repent of, — I have 
never felt or shown any pride of life. 

Abraham (in great surprise) — Your husband 
testified to the church that you were froward 
through pride of life. 

Mary — He knew, — (correcting herself) he 
knows, — that it was not that. 

Abraham — Why did you wish the new- 
fangled shutters on your house? 

Mary — To make my work easier by letting in 
the air and keeping out the flies. 

Abraham — And Henry knew this ? 

Mary — Ask him. 

Abraham (avoiding looking at Henry) — And 
why did you not tell this to the church? 



THE NEW LIGHTS 39 

Mary — I had no chance. 
Levi — The holy Paul enjoins upon women 
to keep silence in the church, — to let their hus- 
bands speak for them. 

Abraham — Did Henry speak falsely for you ? 
Mary — Ask him. 

Abraham {looking squarely at Henry for the 
first time) — Henry, search your own heart and 
answer. 

Levi {interrupting) — Henry, rem.ember what 
the holy Paul says, " The husband should rule 
well his own household, — the husband is the 
head of the wife." 

Henry {his features working convulsively) — 
It was — it was — the love of money — in me, 
— the root of all evil, — in me, and not the "pride 
of life in Mary. 

Abraham {his face quivering with emotion, 
a few large tears falling dozvn his cheeks) — And 
what brought you to know this, Henry ? 

Henry {his countenance still zvorking pa- 
thetically) — Mary's love and patience. 

Abraham — And you will acknowledge this 
publicly, -^ to the church? 

Henry {in deep emotion) — Yes, I will. 

{Mary, with a look of grateful affection at 
Henry, drops her head again.) 

Abraham — Let us silently praise God {a 
short silence). 



40 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Abraham — Our brother, John Rnnkel, a 
newly saved brand from the burning, would 
speak before these friends his wish to walk be- 
fore the Lord with my daughter Katherine as 
his wife. 

John (rising, pale and agitated, and in zvorldly 
speech) — I wish to marry Katherine Gast. 

Abraham — The question has been considered 
and approved by the church. Katherine, what is 
your wish ? 

Katherine {who has been sitting imth bozved 
head, gazing fixedly upon her hands in her lap, 
seemingly hearing nothing, rouses herself zvith 
a start, and, with wide open, apparently unsee- 
ing eyes, says, monotonously) — I will marry 
John in the late spring. {Then shudders as if 
with cold and resumes her former pose.) 

{The blood rushes over Johns face, and he 
gives her a glowing look of gratitude and love, 
— then remembers himself and resumes his 
solemn attitude and expression.) 

Abraham — There is another matter which 
has been considered and indorsed by the church. 
This is my desire to walk before the Lord with 
Hannah Brown as my wife. Hannah, is this 
your wish? 

Hannah (with a mixture of pride and hu- 
mility) — This is my wish. 



THE NEW LIGHTS 4t 

Abraham — Let us again silently praise the 
Lord. 

(All sit for a few seconds with bowed heads, 
then Abraham rises, saying) I guess we men 
must leave this room to the women, now. They 
don't like us around while they're at work 
{leads the way to the parlor). 

Mary {looking anxiously at Katherine) — 
You don't look well, Katherine. What ails you, 
child? 

{Katherine, her nerves giving way, bursts 
into an agony of sobbing. Mary puts her arms 
about her in motherly fashion.) 

Mary — Come, dear, let me put you to bed. 
You're not fit to be up {leads her out). 

{There is a jingling of sleigh-bells.) 

Hannah {going to the zmtidow) — There they 
are. 

Ellen {entering) — Well, here I am. My, but 
it's cold. This fire feels good. 

Hannah {busily) — Come, now, hurry-burry! 
You set the table while I go into the kitchen. 
I'll help you get the table out first. You know 
where everything is. {They set the large table 
in the center of the floor and put up the drop 
leaves. Hannah goes out. Ellen opens a closet 
and takes out a linen cloth, ivhich she spreads on 
the fable.) My, Hannah will have a lot of nice 



42 THE NEW LIGHTS 

linen when she marries Abraham! (Then she 
proceeds to get out dishes and place them on the 
table.) And aint this china nice? {The door 
opens very quietly and Jake peeps in.) 

Jake — Kin I come in ? 

Ellen (blushing) — Why, yes. What's to 
hinder? 

Jake — You're purtier than ever today. 

Ellen (bliss fully) — Am I? 

Jake — Yes, you are. I want to hug you 
(passionately). 

Ellen — O Jake ! 

Jake (mocking her playfully) — What's to 
hinder (coming closer) ? 

Ellen (backing away from him) — Some- 
body might come in. 

Jake — Well, what if they do? 

Ellen — O Jake (lifting a glovuing face to 
his) ! 

Jake — There's a kind o' general marryin' 
and given' in marriage goin' on today, — what's 
wrong with you and me hitchin' up for life (put- 
ting his arms around her) ? 

Ellen (unth spirit) — I won't come here to 
live with Hannah ! 

Jake (gleefidly) — That's my girl! Did you 
think I would ask it of ye? No-sir-ee! Abra- 
ham '11 be glad to let us have the tenant house 



THE NEW LIGHTS 43 

over by the brook. IVe got a nice little pile laid 
by and we 1 fix it up as cosey as a bird's „e^ 
Wont that be to your likin'? 

Ellen -Oh, you dear Jake {letting him kiss 

herashe^^ai). But you must go no^t. You're 

scold" "' ""'"' '''^ '^^"^' ^^^ Hannah 'II 

Jake {laughing)- She won't have many more 

and goes out). 

CURTAIN 



t-.ofC. 



ACT FOURTH 

Scene — James Herron's study. It is early 
evening. 

(Enter Katherine in out-door garb, follozued 
by Susan.) 

Susan — My, but it's good to see you agin, 
Miss Katherine! Come to say good-bye to the 
baby? Mr. Herron's goin' day after tomorrow, 
and Jane, she's goin' too. She loves that baby so 
she has to go with it, and Mr. Herron — he's 
mighty glad to take her. And Mr. Herron's 
partner, Mr. Reigart, is goin' to move right in. 
They've bought the place, furniture and all. And 
I'm goin' to live with 'em. But here I am 
a-talkin' on as if you'd been to the other side 
of the world. And indeed. Miss Katherine, you 
might 'a' been dead for the way we missed you 
ever since you went away, — little James and all. 
But, my! let me take your things, and set you 
down close to the fire. It's cold out, aint it? 

Katherine (pale and shivering) — Yes, it's 
very cold out. I am quite chilled with my ride. 
Thank you, Susan. How's little James? 

Susan — Oh, he's fine. Miss. He's asleep, 
though. Jane puts him to bed early. Will you 
go up and look at him a little? 

45 



46 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Katherine — No, Susan, not yet. I am too 
cold. I might chill him by going near him. Til 
— I'll wait till morning. 

Susan — I'll take your things right up to 
your room, then, and you just sit down close to 
the fire. You don't seem well, Miss Katherine. 
It goes hard with you to part with the baby fur 
good, don't it? But they say you're goin' to 
marry Mr. Runkel, and then maybe you'll have a 
baby of your own some day. Sit down here 
(moving a chair to the fire), and I'll make more 
light. 

Katherine (sitting dozvn) — No, no, Susan, 
thank you. I don't want any more light. I don't 
even want this. Put it out, please. The fire- 
light is enough. I am thoroughly chilled, — but 
I'll soon be warm by this cheerful blaze. 

Susan — Yes, Miss Katherine. Then I'll get 
you a little supper quick. Will you have it up 
here? 

Katherine — No, Susan, I don't want any 
supper, not the least thing. I ate something 
before I started. I have everything I want. I'll 
just rest here until I get thoroughly warmed, and 
then I'll go to bed. Good-night, Susan. 

Susan (turning out the light) — Good-night, 
Miss Katherine. (Goes out.) 

(Katherine remains seated in the deep chair 



THE NEW LIGHTS 47 

before the bright Hre, zMch shines fidt in her 
face. She is very pale. She shivers still. Pres- 
ently she throzvs up her arms zmth a little cry, 
and, rising, begins to zvalk the floor. Steps are 
heard outside. She quickly resumes her seat, 
zvith her back tozvard the door upon corridor. 
James enters. The room scans dark to him after 
the brightly lighted staircase. He strikes a 
match on his shoe-sole, zvhich goes out. He 
approaches the fire. He sees Katherine.) 

James — Katherine ! 

Katherine {rises, staggers a little, holding by 
the chair. She is paler than before. She speaks 
in little gasps) — Yes, James, it is I. I have 
come to say good-bye — to the baby. 

James (gloomily) — And to me — good-bye 
— forever. 

Katherine (imploringly) — Don't, James, it 
breaks my heart. (Then suddenly and zjuildly) 

James, what shall I do ! — what shall I do ! 
(Falling on her knees, boziing her head upon 
her hands, and rocking her body to and fro.) 

James (startled) — What do you mean, Kath- 
erine, what do you mean? 

Katherine (in the same attitude) — How can 

1 tell you ! How can I tell you ! 

James (eagerly) — You do not wish to marry 
John Runkel? 



48 THE NEW LIGHTS 

Katherine (lifting tip her face, zvith the look 
of death upon it) — I dare not marry John 
Runkel. 

James (helping her to her feet) — Katherine, 
Katherine, explain yourself. (A light breaking 
into his face) Explain yourself, Katherine. 

Katherine (looking him full in the face with 
agonised eyes) — I — I — am going to have a 
child, — your child, James (drawing azvay from 
him and drooping her head). 

James — You ! — you ! — a child ! my child ! 
Thank God! Katherine, — thank God! (Tak- 
ing her in his arms and sobbing in passionate 
joy.) 

Katherine (lifts her face to his with deep 
surprise in her expression, zuhich changes to 
a sort of terror) — O James ! How can you say 
Thank God! 

James (holding her close) — Because this is 
the only thing that would save you — from — 
your church, — and give you — to me — Kath- 
erine, — my love ! my love ! 

Katherine — But, O James ! Think of our 
sin ! Think of the just anger of God against us ! 
Against me in particular, — who have done 
despite to His Holy Name, — who have crucified 
Him afresh. 

James — We have not sinned, Katherine. We 



THE NEW LIGHTS 49 

have only loved, — and if God is love, He loves 
our love. Why, Katherine {holding her off and 
looking into her face with passionate tender- 
ness), do you really believe that a few words of 
a priest, or a legal sanction, can make a thing 
right that is in itself wrong? No, Katherine, it is 
eternally right that the man and woman who love 
each other should come together in love. And no 
priest or law can make this any more right, nor 
can any lack of religious or legal sanction make 
it wrong. 

Katherine {comforted into a degree of calm 
in spite of herself) — When you say these things, 
James, I can not answer. I feel that you are 
right somehow, — but if you are, how is, it about 
all that I have been taught, — about the way I 
feel — so wicked — so vile in the sight of God ? 

James — The things we have been taught have 
a deep hold upon us, Katherine, — until we be- 
gin to think for ourselves. When we do this 
we stand up and look the universe in the face, 
and are not afraid. 

Katherine — Oh, but James, I am afraid ! — 
I am afraid! I can never — never feel as you 
do. And yet — if you did not feel as you do, — 
what would become of me? I should be an out- 
cast and a word of reproach. 

James — You are not going to be an outcast 



50 THE NEW LIGHTS 

and a word of reproach, Katherine. You are 
going to be my dear wife, and we are going far 
away from the influences that have prevented you 
from thinking for yourself, — going where you 
will forget these narrow ideas — where you will 
discard this dress — where you will have a chance 
to be your own beautiful self in freedom and in 
love. 

Katherine — O James, dear ! I can never 
discard this dress, — don't think that I will, — 
I must wear it, — wear it always in penance — 
to keep me humble — to help me remember my 
sin — my desertion of my Savior. 

James — You repeat these stock-in-trade ex- 
pressions of religion, my dear Katherine, as some 
lesson that you have learned. But you will learn 
a new lesson, — a lesson that has in it no wrath 
or punishment or penance, or any such thing, — 
nothing but love. There is no such thing as sin, 
Katherine, — there is only ignorance. And ig- 
norance shall be dissipated as we grow in knowl- 
edge through experience. You know Jesus, your 
Savior, as you call Him, said, " Ye shall know 
the truth and the truth shall make you free." 
I believe those words, Katherine. They hold all 
of my religion. We will live this religion, — you 
and I. We will acknowledge our ignorance. We 
will seek to gain knowledge, — the knowledge 



THE NEW LIGHTS 51 

of the truth. And, in doing this, we shall find 
the universe on our side. And, as the truth sets 
us free, we shall realize more and more that there 
is no wrath, no punishment, no penance, — 
nothing but love — love — love! {Holding 
Katherine's face betzveen his hands and kissing 
her zvith each zuord, as she gazes into his eyes 
in adoring affection, her ozvn pale and stricken 
countenance seemingly lighted by the glow from 
his.) 

CURTAIN 



MOV ? 



LIBRAMY ur 




